Annals of Death
by AnimeSiren
Summary: Humans all die, and Kurosaki Ichigo will not be the exception to that rule. A family breakfast turns into that much more, and a brother is called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice for his sisters. He will die a hero, even if it is lame.


**Annals of Death**

_Enjoy_

**X-_X-_X**

Ichigo was a Shinigami, or at least a representative, so he knew death. He knew heroism, he knew gruesome, and he really knew sob stories. After all you can't be a Shinigami and not have heard the stories, the tales.

So over all he was pretty certain that this was a lame ass way to die, even if it was for a very good cause.

_Some time ago…_

"Family Operation: Sunday Morning Breakfast Complete!" announced Isshin as they walked into the restaurant. It was bright and early as the first Sunday morning of spring so Isshin had decided that they, as a family, should go to the local pancake house to have breakfast. It was as a family, together, and in public.

The nightmare.

"Geez," muttered Karin. "You think you could be any louder, goat face?"

"Oh my daughter! So you not have enough attention from daddy? Daddy promises to give you more attention!" honestly you'd think the man was going to break out in ballet at any moment.

Before Karin could attempt to hurt him the hostess appeared to seat them. (Receiving many odd looks from the staff and patrons as they passed.)

The family was seated, and given menus, however before they could be given the chance to break out in another argument something else became vitally apparent.

They didn't appear to be the only unusual people to dine there that morning.

"Robbers?" muttered Ichigo incredulously "Seriously? This friggin early on a Sunday morning and robbers decide to go at this little shit of a place? What's there maybe a hundred bucks in the drawer?"

Isshin shot a glance over to Ichigo out of the side of his eyes and immediately returned his attention back to the cash register. One of the robbers had a gun pulled and pointed at the cashier, and the other was shouting at the same cashier to open the drawer and fill a sack he was holding.

There were only a few other diners in the restaurant that morning, and the gasps and whimpering that came to them didn't seem promising of a calm situation. The cashier began crying. The situation quickly rose in tension.

"Great," Ichigo said, putting his head in his hands "Armed freaking robbery."

"Quiet Ichigo," hissed Isshin out of the corner of his mouth, he was keeping his hands visible on the tabletop. Isshin looked towards Ichigo's sisters causing Ichigo to look as well. They both looked frightened, well Karin looked more worried, she was holding onto Yuzu's upper arm with one hand.

All of a sudden it became apparent that the cashier wasn't going quite fast enough for the two mid twenties robbers.

The girl at the counter let out a whimper and a small squeal as the robber pointing the gun waved in around and shouted in her face. "Come on! What do you need, some incentive?"

"Here how about this!" shouted the other robber; he stalked towards the only table that was near him, pulling a gun from his jacket as he did so.

It was the Kurosaki table.

Ichigo almost growled in frustration. He would have been much happier to face a menos grande; this was just not his day.

His frustration froze with his heart just one second later however. The robber had pulled Karin forcefully out of her chair in one swift move, knocking the chair back he grinned into the shocked faces of her family.

Karin yelped in half concealed pain. Ichigo's reiatsu snapped the next millisecond; it flew, in one gust, out of any inkling of control. Ichigo saw red, and only primal instinct of survival stopped his from jumping over the table at the man that dare grab his sister.

His father tensed immediately by his side.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ichigo snarled, his head tilted down towards the table, one hand threaded through his hair, gripping it tightly. His voice was low and deadly.

"Yo Ho! A little man who thinks he's got some guts on him!" He grinned maliciously right in Ichigo's face. "Why don't we see if the girl's got some guts on her too?"

He put his handgun away in his coat, wafting the smell of fermented alcohol across the table, only to draw a switchblade out of it. He moved it very obviously, and grinned equally, putting it horizontal to Karin's stomach.

Ichigo and all his self control snapped.

Before the robber could make an utterance Ichigo had leapt across the table and soundly kicked the knife out of the robber's hands, it embedded in the wall behind him. The lackadaisical robber let go off Karin with a yelp. Ichigo grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her towards their father's waiting arms, not sparing a glance behind him.

Ichigo landed and flipped back around kicking the stunned malicious man right into the hostess podium. His shocked partner looked at him with dumb astonishment, flinching when he heard the crack of his co-robber turned victim's body give a sickening crunch.

Ichigo moved next towards the second would be robber, who was stumbling away from the disheveled podium. He looked over towards the huddled form of the hostess, rumpled but unhurt. Looking back at the robber the man had pulled a gun from his sweatshirt, though it was rattling from the man's apparent fear.

Isshin was staring wide eyed from the table, his daughters firmly behind him. His son's reiatsu was very palpable; even if he weren't a veteran Shinigami he didn't doubt that he'd be able to sense it.

"D-don't come any closer!" yelled the remaining instigator.

"Do you think I'm afraid of death?" demanded Ichigo, his anger beyond belief. How _dare_ anyone _try_ to harm his family, the family he worked so hard to protect? His eyes flashed silver. "I am Death!"

"Please!" the man began to beg, his gun dropped to the floor, discharging and shattering a window. The sack of money was lying quite forgotten between the two. "I wasn't the one that touched your sister, he was!" he gestured wildly towards his fallen comrade.

No one really noticed the said fallen comrade's hand twitch ever so slightly; everyone's attention was too clearly focused on Ichigo.

Ichigo didn't seem to be swayed by any part of the robber's groveling nor by his speech. Instead he brought his fist down on the man's head, knocking him unconscious. The man's eyes rolled and his air left him, leaving him to be only an insignificant mass on the floor.

Ichigo wasn't prepared for what happened next. Not in any of his experience was he ready for what definitely happened next.

"Ichigo!" The fear in his father's shriek made him whirl around. His father was lunging towards the fallen robber at the podium, knocking a chair over in the process. He followed his father with his eyes, and when his eyes reached the fallen robber it was his body that felt the impact.

Isshin was too late.

It was the oddest feeling Ichigo had ever felt. He registered the pain; it was something that he was used to feeling. He had been slashed by a sword, pummeled by a fist, and had even been beamed by a broken bottle, but he had never been shot with a gun.

There was this indistinguishable feeling in his chest, and a heat that spread all throughout his body. All at once he had an overwhelming sense of vertigo and then he was just falling. His cognitive abilities seemed to shift for a moment, losing all track of time and place.

He noticed he was on the floor, and that there were people shrieking and yelling.

He saw…his father rushing towards him, and that the robber was motionless once more, and for some reason his sisters were crying.

Did he make them cry?

"Sorry," he muttered to his father, who was for some reason pushing his shirt up, was he evaluating him? For what?

"You have nothing to be sorry for!" said his father sternly. Ichigo noticed his father was trying to stop some bleeding. Oh, he was bleeding. The robber had shot him. Ichigo blinked.

They both knew it wasn't going to stop.

Isshin had real tears in his eyes for the first time in years.

Ichigo moved his hands up and across his chest, bathing them in his own blood. It was fitting that he passes into the next world with the only substance he had ever both saved and damned on his hands. He cupped his father's hands in his own, effectively stopping their movement.

"I've got to tell you something before it happens," Ichigo said, brokenly but clearly. There was rapid movement all around them but in those few moments, to them, the world stood still.

It was his will along that kept him alive, albeit gasping for breath every other second. Death wouldn't take him before he was damn well ready; it wasn't the way of the Kurosaki stubbornness.

"Ichigo, be quiet you need to save your strength," Isshin replied, trying to comfort his son in the only way he knew how, as a human doctor.

"No dad, I have to tell you about me," Ichigo had to cut himself off, he began seizing involuntarily.

"No!" Isshin said, thrown aghast. His only son, so like himself, so like Masaki was dying and there was nothing he could do. He could see the life energy leaving his son, dying far before his time. He could here the ambulance pull up outside. "Ichigo hold on! Don't leave me!"

Isshin looked desperately around him. His daughters were wrapped around each other, collapsed in front of the table they had just been sharing breakfast over; they were in shock with frozen tears on their faces. There were still people in the restaurant, workers and patrons all looking at him with surprise and pity.

The paramedics came rushing through the old fashioned diner doors at the same time that Isshin felt his son's body stop seizing.

The paramedics had the audacity to try to push past him. "It's too late," Isshin said to them, his throat constricting. "Time of death: seven fifty three."

"Sir you can't make that call," one of the paramedics tried telling him.

"I am," Isshin said with difficulty "Kurosaki Isshin of the Karakura Clinic."

"Ah," said the other, evidently having brought him a patient before. "Kurosaki-san, I'm sorry."

"So am I," Isshin murmured, falling backwards and bracing himself with his arms. "So am I."

Isshin fell silent, and so did they, exchanging looks over his head.

He looked back down at his son, at Masaki's face and his spirit. His beloved son was really gone from this mortal world.

Seventeen years old and dead.

Isshin wept openly in that instant and the paramedics retreated to presumably retrieve the right supplies to clean up Ichigo with. To clean him up before they brought him to the hospital, to the morgue.

The girls had tried to get closer to him but had collapsed once more on the floor in agony before they could reach him. Only his back faced them.

Isshin wept even more when he thought about it. First they lost their beloved mother, and now their only brother, their protector and mentor. Life hasn't been fair to them and he knew they wouldn't understand what was going to happen to his brother on the other side.

However, by Kami, Isshin knew, he knew what would happen because he and his son were more alike that his son had cared to admit. Isshin was one too.

He was a Shinigami, one who protected the dead. He was one of an army of honorable spirit warriors, who protected the ignorant from things they wouldn't even dare to dream of.

Isshin knew his son had had an important message to relay to him, perhaps to try to comfort him but Isshin already knew.

Ever since that arrancar he had known…

Isshin had to prepare himself for what he knew, what he was taught, what he had witnessed was going to happen next.

Ichigo's soul began to rise from his deceased mortal body. The body was now nothing more than an empty shell, a sack of elements and fluids. It was Kurosaki Ichigo no longer.

Ichigo wasn't aware of what was happening at first. He hadn't had his soul forced out of his body in months, and he had certainly never exited his body the correct way. The only way a human was ever supposed to exit their body: the deadly way.

Ichigo's soul appeared in its Shinigami form, dressed in full regalia. It was the position of his soul; it was the way his soul survived. He felt pressure all around, on his arms and legs, and in his chest and head.

Then it happened.

His sword was pulled off his back with all the elegance of a rampaging bull, and his black outer haori and hakama disintegrated off his body. He was left in a simple white yakuta. He couldn't understand this, looking himself up and down his soul face twisted in confusion. Did dying mean he couldn't be a Shinigami anymore?

No, that didn't make any sense at all.

Ichigo looked around, realizing that he could, and spotted his body at once. He looked away as quickly as he could. No matter what experience he could ever have gained, as a Shinigami the image of oneself passed away was not a pleasant image.

He noticed something else too.

His father was looking directly at him. He was staring him dead in the eyes with drying tear trails on his cheeks. "You'll get your Shinigami powers back once you are judged in soul society," he said standing.

Ichigo reeled back in confusion as his father began walking towards him, ignoring the other occupants of the restaurant as they slowly trickled out and away from the crime scene. How could his father see him, much less know about these things?

Then Kurosaki Isshin's body dropped, only he was still standing too.

"As a former member of the Gotei 13, and on my honor as the former Captain of Division five, I humbly send you to Soul Society, rest in peace."

As Ichigo's stunned expression began to fade with the rest of him Ichigo caught a final glimpse of his father's rugged face and the tattered captain's robes that trailed behind him.

Then there was quiet.

"He must have fainted," said one of the paramedics who had returned, the one that had delivered to the Karakura Kurosaki Clinic before. He was looking at Isshin's unconscious form, just a few inches away from Ichigo's, and then he also glanced over at Karin and Yuzu.

"Those poor girls," said the other "I wonder if they'll be okay?"

"Life goes on, they'll learn, they'll live and then they'll forget the pain," replied the first as the father began to stir on the floor. "It's the human way."

X-_X-_X

Ichigo felt like he was flowing, and he felt exponentially tired. He was so tired it felt like it'd take a lifetime to just open his eyes.

He felt like he was on waves, like he was floating in a river. He regained a bit more consciousness as he gave in to the rocking back and forth motions of his subconscious.

Then there was a bright light, a sudden flash, and he was falling, falling faster than he ever had in Zangetsu's parallel world.

Then his body halted all at once and the light lessened.

His body was laying on a hard surface, and he opened his less tired eyes with a surprised gasp to accompany the emotions.

He was lying in the direct middle of the Captain's hall, however where he expected there to stand proud the entire member's of the Gotei 13 captaincy there only stood the captain-commander of the first division.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," his surprisingly steady voice boomed across the room. "You have died."

Well that information wasn't exactly news to Ichigo at the moment. Thanks so much, old man, for the news flash.

"Even though you have experienced death before you have to partake in the annals of your soul," Yamamoto-taichou continued no glimpse of emotion overly apparent on his face "The annals that all souls have to experience."

"The annals," Ichigo repeated back, his voice surprisingly raspy.

"You will answer to a series of judgments which will decide your placement in this world," Yamamoto-taichou replied.

"My placement?" Ichigo began but was cut off.

"We normally have lower level Shinigami partake in the annals of the incoming souls and only one Shinigami to a soul, but you always have been a special case haven't you?" asked Yamamoto.

Ichigo didn't answer, and Yamamoto continued.

"You will be judged by all the captains of the Gotei 13!" Yamamoto said in a commanding tone, accented by a sharp rap of his staff.

"Yes, sir!" yelled back several voices.

Ichigo jumped. He very seriously hadn't noticed any other person enter the room, but they had, and they were now lined up on either side of Yamamoto-sou-taichou and himself. Every single captain of the Gotei 13 was there alongside them, even the new Shusuke Amagai.

"Now trial K-17987511, begin!" announced Yamamoto. Ichigo had expected some form of immediate pain, or probing when he announced that. But it didn't, the only thing that happened was Yamamoto stepped forward more.

"Your full name?" Yamamoto barked.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," replied Ichigo at once, he had an odd feeling of compulsion to answer.

"You human age?"

"Seventeen."

"Place of birth?"

"Kakakura town, Kurosaki clinic."

The line of general questions continued on like that for quite some time. Ichigo was reaching the point where he didn't think about the responses anymore, they just flew from him mouth at the captain's request. Then the questions turned more analyzing, more stamina draining.

"What is your greatest accomplishment?" Yamamoto asked next.

Now Ichigo had to fight down the compulsion of immediate answer, he made himself think about it. What could he choose out of his life to be his greatest accomplishment? Saving Rukia? Saving Soul Society?

"Something you did in your mortal life," Yamamoto said. "Your time as a Shinigami is not valid in this question."

This made Ichigo have to think again, not only had he died but also now he was on trial? What had he done in his human life that he could consider a monumental accomplishment?

Did he really accomplish so little in his mortal life that he had nothing to reply back, nothing but the annoying feeling of compulsion that kept jumping up his throat?

"I have most accomplished in my lifetime…"Ichigo said slowly "My sisters. I helped raise them, and I died for them. I helped to make them who they are."

Yamamoto took even another step forward; Ichigo looked up at him, challenging him to challenge him.

"What is your greatest regret?" he asked this time.

Ichigo didn't miss a beat. "Not saving my mother from Grand Fisher."

Yamamoto fired back immediately "Greatest regret of your immortal life?"

"Not telling her," Ichigo said, the rough compulsion to answer the first thing he thought of firing the words out of his newly dead mouth.

"Not telling her what?" asked Yamamoto softer.

"That I love her," Ichigo mumbled back. He looked at Genryuusai solemnly, their eyes meeting.

"You will speak so that the whole council may here hear your testimony," Yamamoto said.

"I said I never told her that I loved her," said Ichigo louder.

"Love who?" asked Yamamoto-sou-taichou, a dangerous look in his eyes.

Ichigo wasn't about to look Kuchiki Byakuya in the eye as he said "Kuchiki Rukia."

The captain of the first division smiled. "You passed."

X-_X-_X

"What do you mean I have to go back and take remedial classes at the Academy?" bit out newly reinstated Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo.

"It's only for the sixth year, Kurosaki-sama!" pleaded the low level Shinigami messenger who had been the unlucky one to deliver the message to his irate comrade. "Yamamoto-sama believes you need to learn Demon Arts!"

"Arrrgh!"

**X-_X-_X**

**And I bet you all think I'm being lazy and can only update my drabble series. Heh.**

**Thanks to anyone that took the time to read this, I actually spent time editing is and listening to serious mood music. Please review! Onegaishimasu!**

**-AnimeSiren**


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